


Who We Are

by danvssomethingorother



Category: The Venture Bros
Genre: AU Rusty, Gen, I make lots of fics trying to explain his world, M/M, Me setting up an AU world, Multi, You know that sexy Rusty you see at the end of Bright Lights Dean City?, fic request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 08:43:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16513046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danvssomethingorother/pseuds/danvssomethingorother
Summary: Rusty Venture is stepping into the world of theater and may have purchased a haunted theater. Could be seen as a sequel toThe Lives We Lead





	Who We Are

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deliriumbubbles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliriumbubbles/gifts).



> OOOOh boy is this self indulgent. 
> 
> Ok so this is basically me trying to craft AU Rusty's world (that sexy Rusty we see at the end of Bright Lights, Dean City) in a different way and trying to keep with a prompt and boy is this a doozy.

“The real estate agent specifically said this place was haunted.”

Pop hummed but otherwise ignored his boyfriend walking around the run down, in need of more than just a coat of paint as the ad claimed, theater.

Dean latched onto Pop’s hand and he smiled down at his son. Dean immediately returned the smile, relieved his pop was acting normal again. He hadn’t been crying at all since they moved back in with Uncle JJ after their brief stay in Colorado.

“I don’t believe in ghosts. They claim anything when something won’t sell. It’s a fixer upper, Brock. It’s hardly a haunted theater.”

Brock sighed loudly, Dean glanced up at Pop worried he was going to get in trouble. Brock only made that sigh when him and Hank did something bad.

Pop however didn’t look upset or anywhere near as bad as he had been while they were at Grandpa’s compound. He just quirked his eyebrow and an amused smile settled on his lips.

“Are you afraid Brock?”

Brock glared hard but otherwise didn’t say anything, staying where he was at by the dented exit door that didn’t close right. Pop was staring at a large back drop that appeared to have blood stains on it, gently scratching Dean’s head as he wrapped his arms tightly around his Pop’s midsection, pressing his face into the soft, expensive fabric of his designer coat.

Pop bent down and kissed Dean on the forehead seeing his horrified expression at the run-down area before he too began eying the broken props and wrinkled his nose at the ugly, dusty costumes piled up in the back. 

“Where did Hank get off to?” Pop asked glancing around the area and not seeing his other son anywhere, “This place is dangerous even if it isn’t haunted. I don’t want him trying to get on the catwalk and hurting himself.”

“He went to explore the dressing rooms,” Brock said tilting his head in the other direction, “Probably found something there to keep his attention.”

Pop didn’t say anything to him, just giving him a look before easily pivoting towards the hallway lined with rooms with broken and faded stars on the doors.

Small, child sized foot prints littered the hallway showing Hank had been in here.

“Hank?” Pop called letting go of Dean’s hand and creaking open a door for one of the doors that looked like it had been kicked open more then once.

The room was crowded with broken furniture and old framed and broken posters that looked decades old. Pop picked up one of the framed posters popped against the wall and smiled at it. It looked like it was some horror production, a Dracula looking man was biting into the neck of another man.

“My Uncle took me to this show a lot when I was your age,” he told Dean fondly but like all the stories he told Dean there was a hint of sadness in his eyes, “I believe he was dating the man who played Dracula’s love interest. The show nor the theater stayed open long after that, but I remember it fondly.”

Pop set the poster back down with the rest of the broken junk that would need to be hauled away before he could turn the theater back into a place of business and left the room calling for his brother.

Dean grabbed the poster and dragged, with more effort then he thought he would need, it out of the room handing it to his other father with a giant smile.

Brock didn’t ask questions, he normally didn’t, he just took it from Dean and easily slipped it under his arm pit, the weight of the frame not bothering him much.

“Don’t go too far, Dean,” he told him firmly watching the child open another one of the dressing room doors, “Your Pop is already in one of his moods with Hank hiding somewhere.”

“I won’t! I just want to explore a little.”

His father gave him a warning look but didn’t say anything else, leaning against one of the walls and pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

“Don’t tell your Pop I was smoking in his new building either,” he said eying Dean and smiling when Dean motioned that his lips were sealed, zipping them shut and tossing away the key.

Dean disappeared into the room and was surprised how cleaned up this room was in comparison to the other rooms. It was dusty and it smelled like moth balls sure but it actually resembled a dressing room. A large Vanity mirror sat dead center of the room, one of the three mirrors was shattered but the other two were intact showing the nervous reflection of Dean Venture. The light bulbs were all broken and there was glass everywhere, making Dean keep his head down to keep from stepping on any. His thick winter boots would have kept him from injury but still, he didn’t want to take chances.

He messed with his trench coats buttons as he just stared at the costumes hung up in the closet. They weren’t worn down like the cloths he had seen earlier, they looked newer and reminded Dean of the costumes super villains would wear.

Hesitantly, he touched the long sleeve of one of the sleek purple costumes, pulling it out enough to get a better look at the large badge on breast of the outfit, it was a number. He frowned seeing all the costumes were identical except for the badges with different numbers.

Something grabbed him from behind and slapped its hand over his mouth making his scream gargled as the word ‘boo’ brushed against his ear.

His fright turned into anger turning his head to see his snickering brother, standing behind him.

“Hank!” he hissed at his brother, “Where have you been?”

“I have been looking into all these room and I am going to say it now, Bro, this place isn’t haunted, it is a total super villain lair.”

“Its not either, Pop says it has been abandoned for a long time and that’s why it looks like this.”

“I think Pop is just in denial, this is a total villain lair. I have been looking for the secret entrance to the underground lab forever and have yet to find it.”

“No, he’s not!”

“He so is! Even Brock thinks something is up with this place.”

Dean glared at his brother but couldn’t think of a good argument, Pop had been acting off since they went to Colorado. Their Grandfather had been sick, Pop had made an attempt to have a better relationship with his father before he passed after years of not seeing him, but he was just sad now and Dean wasn’t so sure it was because Grandpa had passed. Dean was ten, but he wasn’t stupid, he knew when his father wasn’t doing alright.

Dean began digging through the drawers of makeup desk and paused finding another badge like the ones on the costumes in the closet. It was cracked and had the number 24 written on it. A chill went down Dean’s spine just looking at it, the room felt colder just holding the badge.

“Boys?”

He gulped down his panic and pocketed the badge he found before Hank could yank it from his hands.

Pop was standing in the doorway of the room, trying unsuccessfully to dust a new stain off his jacket. Brock had told him not to wear his designer things to the theater but as usual, he didn’t listen. Even in a run down and dirty place like this, Pop was dressed to the nines. He always told his sons to never be caught dead looking lesser then anyone else in the room and though it made Brock’s eyes roll, dressed his boys up just as nicely before they ever left the Penthouse.

“We need to get back home, your uncle just contacted me, Impossible will be here earlier then expected.”

Hank was quick to latch onto their father, excitedly telling him about all the cool stuff here and his theory it was a villain’s lair, but Dean hung back a moment glancing back at the neat stack of costumes.

He couldn’t shake the feeling, but it felt almost like someone was watching them.

\----

Professor Impossible was a very imposing man, Dean stayed behind his father when they stepped into the Ventech building. Even Hank despite his usual bravado was a little nervous about being near the man.

Pop held his hand out towards the man but made sure Brock was in his line of sight the entire time. The Venture family hadn’t been on the best footing with the man since Aunt Sally had officially married Uncle JJ.

“Richard,” Pop said curtly much politer then he normally would address people outside the family.

“Rusty its been so long,” the man said with a bright smile, but it was only for formality, Dean could tell he wanted to lash out at his Pop as he had done the last time he had been here. Brock must have seen it too the way he stepped forward and gave the man a warning glare.

“Not long enough honestly,” Pop said with a shrug and Impossible’s smile began twitching at the sarcastic reply.

“And what right do you have to call me Rusty? We aren’t friends, Impossible.”

“I do apologize, Dr. Venture,” he half hissed in his attempt to keep the smile up, fist clenching tight, probably to keep himself from striking Pop. 

“Brock why don’t you and the boys go clean up for lunch, this shouldn’t take long,” he said gently squeezing Dean’s hand a moment guaranteeing everything was fine before pushing him towards his other parent. 

Brock glanced towards Professor Impossible and glared hard at him before easily scooping up both twins and heading towards the private elevator that would lead them to their home while Pop easily steered Impossible towards the public elevator, intending to head to the conference rooms where Uncle JJ was probably waiting now. Dean noted the security guard trailing behind Pop and knew things could get bad, they had been bad for awhile between the Ventures and the Impossibles.

Dean knew he wasn’t supposed to have heard the threats Richard Impossible had thrown at his dad and Uncle at the wedding rehearsal, but it was sadly impossible to not hear them the way he had screamed them.

He promised Pop quite the painful death after he continued to insult him after JJ had managed to calm him down enough to stop screaming and that worried Dean. He didn’t like the idea of that man being alone with Pop and by the worried gleam in Brock’s eyes, neither did he.

\---- 

“Shouldn’t you be at the meeting?”

Dean pretended to watch TV listening to Brock talk with the weird pirate Captain Uncle JJ had turned into his assistant. Dean lived an odd life, they had met the man while vacationing on Spider Skull island and he had tried to rob them. JJ, being the diplomatic member of the family, had convinced Pop to not kill the pirate himself after he had held Dean at gun point and offered to turn his life around.

“I didn’t bother, yer loud mouth husband will be there, he’s usually good at ending things fast. That sneak stole his own father’s company, I doubt it will take him long to finish buying out Impossible.” 

He glanced at Hank who was now blocking the TV the closer he scooted towards it, leaning up on his knees to see it better. He rested his head against the couch and turned his heads towards the voices wafting from the kitchen. 

“I don’t know if he can right now.”

“Things go that bad with his dad?”

“Rust was threatening to blow up the compound by the end of it and I had to make him leave before we breached the treaty we signed with the OSI.”

“What’s all this nonsense about ‘im going into the theater business now? He having another mental break down?”

“I don’t know. He’s trying to prove something. He wants to make the biggest show in the city now. Something about wanting to prove he can do whatever he wants, and the stupid cartoon will not be the only thing Rusty Venture will be remembered for.”

“Ah, so it is another mental break. Do we…ugh need to start covering our asses now? He doing anything illegal in that theater house?”

“Its not illegal, he’s just hurting right now, let him make his stupid show. Its not hurting anyone and its not breaking any treaty.”

“Yet. I am just waiting until he starts ransoming people there or housing ray guns and shit.”

“He’s not like that anymore. He’s fine. Just let him make his dumb show.”

A pause happened making Dean sigh turning his head back to watch Batman kicking in a door and Hank yelling in excitement.

“What the hell man, you can’t give the boys this shit, its loaded in sugar.” 

Dean just tuned out Brock and the Captain arguing about what you could and couldn’t feed him and his brother.

He couldn’t explain why but his heart was in over drive right now and his worried thoughts about his dad were beginning to blur everything around him.

Dean looked down at his shaking and took a deep breath, anchoring himself to reality and away from his anxiety. He didn’t really know what Brock and the Captain were talking about, but it wasn’t the first-time people implied these things of Pop. Brock and the Captain were just nicer about it then most.

Much nicer about it then Grandpa had been when he screamed at Pop how worthless he was and how he should have let him die as a child.

\----

Dean couldn’t sleep that night, laying in the dark staring up at the stars Pop had helped him and his brother glue around their room, all over their bunk bed and on the walls and ceiling. Hank was snoring loudly on the top bunk, they didn’t have to share a room, there was plenty of room in the penthouse, but they wanted bunk beds and well no one could argue with them wanting to be together.

He held the weird badge he found at Pop’s theater and just stared at it, he felt more comfortable thinking of who had owned this thing and why they had so many identical costumes with different numbers on them then thinking of the problems his family was having right now.

He didn’t want to think about Grandpa hurting Pop and making him sad, Impossible’s death threats and hate of their family, or people trying to claim Pop was up to no good. 

He knew his Pop wasn’t perfect, he wasn’t nice to everyone, he had lost his temper on more people then Dean could count but he was loving and gentle towards Dean and Hank and that was all that ever mattered to him.

He had known since he was small there was something wrong with his Pop, he heard more people then he could count talking amongst themselves about bad things his grandfather had put him through, what strangers had done to his Pop and how it just made him this way. He was a child, but he understood better then most what trauma was and how it had destroyed his Pop and how he did everything in his power to keep that same fate away from his sons.

He rubbed his finger across the chipped edge of the badge, he would rather think about who this person was. Anything to get his mind off what made his Pop sad and what could happen to them in the future.

He wondered if Hank was right, maybe Pop’s new theater was a super villain lair. Maybe this was a henchman’s badge. Maybe he had died on a dangerous mission.

Brock seemed insistent it was haunted, he wouldn’t even go that far into the building, maybe it wasn’t a villain’s lair at all but some kind of evil building full of ghosts and demons and stuff.

Dean’s mind was beginning to wonder at the possibilities of what Pop’s theater building really was. He got up from bed and went over to sit at his desk, pulling out an old note book he documented any new mystery he discovered in.

Is Pop’s new theater a super villain lair or just haunted? 

He needed to think like a scientist about this, just like Uncle JJ taught him. Use the scientific method to figure out which was true or if they were both false. He was jotting down his observations about the theater when he felt that cold presence hit him again, this time feeling like someone was grabbing onto his shoulder.

“Maybe its both.”

The voice was like breeze passing over Dean’s ear and made his mind shut down.

He felt a cold icy hand press against his mouth, stealing his voice away, making him breath harder.He glanced backwards seeing a tall, lanky man dressed in one of those purple outfits he found in Pop’s theater with the number 24 badge pinned to his breast.

He began hyperventilating making the specter let him go, almost looking annoyed down at him.

“Geez kid, chill out, I’m not like here to steal your soul or anything.”

“Who are you?”

Dean finally managed to hiss out, not taking his eyes off the badge.

“In life I was called Henchman 24 and you can call me that now,” the ghost said, an echo to his voice as he spoke, his arm reaching out dramatically making Dean back up and hit his back against the desk.

“Really?” he stuttered out, staring down at his toes not able to look at the ghost.

“I mean I have a real name but its weird now, so just like call me 24.”

The echo dropped from his voice and Dean frowned seeing him lazing lean against his bunk bed and shrugging. He was acting less like something Dean should be afraid of and more like one of the interns Pop complained about.

“Why are you in my bedroom?”

He found some courage to steady his voice watching the ghost shrug and sit down on his bed, shoulders sagging and speaking more in an annoyed, bitter tone then like someone who had been murdered. He was less like a ghost from any story his brother told him to try to scare him and more and more like Pop’s best friend Pete when he was annoyed at something his fiance Billy did.

“I think my soul is attached to that stupid badge now or whatever,” the Specter said with a shrug, “That is until my death is avenged.” 

“Who killed you?”

Dean asked him softly placing his tiny hand on the ghost’s, feeling tiny shivers run through him as he made contact with him. He couldn’t turn away though, the man before him looked sad, like he needed a friend.

“My dick hole boss, that’s who,” He grumbled folding his arms and a pout spreading across his transparent face, “Phantom Limb, heard of him?”

Dean shook his head and 24 groaned loudly. 

“I don’t know if I should tell the details to a child but just know, it was a huge dick move. I did what that asshole asked, I put the bomb in Venture’s car, not my fault it killed the Valet and not that asshole Jonas Jr.”

“Hey!” Dean half yelled, “That is my uncle! Why do you want my Uncle dead?”

“Oh geez,” the henchman groaned sagging his shoulders and face palming, “Listen kid, I don’t want to cause your family any harm. My boss is in league with Impossible and well your uncle pissed off a very petty man when he stole his wife.” 

Dean was about to say something when he heard his door open and his Pop step in. He was still in his suit, his red hair still finely combed down indicating he hadn’t been to bed yet this evening.

“Sweetie?”

Dean looked towards his dad and then towards the ghost standing in his bedroom, not sure what to say.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, daddy,” Dean said walking over to his dad who gently pulled him into a hug.

“Who are you talking to? Is your brother awake too?”

Dean looked up towards the top bunk and saw Hank snoring loudly and gently shook his head. His father wasn’t acknowledging the grown man in his room dressed in spandex, so he must not have been able to see him.

“I have a new friend,” Dean said thinking fast glancing towards the ghost who was eying his Pop up and down, “He’s invisible.”

His dad looked worried a moment looking around the dark room and holding tighter onto his son.

Dean watched 24 disappear and felt a shiver of fear run through him, fearing he had just hallucinated the man entirely. Pop must have sensed his temporary panic, he squeezed his hand tight like he always did when he felt anxious.

“I know things have been hard lately,” Pop began leading Dean back to his bed and re tucking him back into bed, “So much is going on right now and I know it can be hard to process. If you need to talk about it, Sweetie, I will always make the time to help you sort it out.”

Dean didn’t answer and his dad sighed kissing him on the forehead, he was about to get up when Dean grabbed onto his hand.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, sweet heart?”

“I think Mr. Impossible is trying to kill our family…”

His dad laid down next to him and pulled him close once more.

“You don’t need to worry about that Dean, I can promise you, I nor Brock will let that happen.”

He held him for a little while running his fingers through his hair and Dean melted into his dad, he felt safer when he was around. Despite all the rumors and whispers that his father was bad or insane, it would never change how he felt about him.

“I love you daddy,” he mumbled to him and his dad smiled kissing him again.

“I love you too, Dean, do you want me to stay here tonight?”

“No, I want to go back to sleep,” his dad nodded a moment before getting up and wishing him good night again before he left the room.

He jumped a little seeing 24 reappear in front of, he scowled at the ghost but didn’t say anything.

“Holy shit kid, I think your dad is Vengeance. He is like a legend among super villains! I wish I could have henched for him!”

“No, he’s not!” Dean hissed at the ghost, “His name is Dr. Thaddeus Venture.”

“Whatever kid but I am just saying, Brock Samson used to number two for that guy and that guy is a killing machine! You can totally have him avenge my death and I don’t know, stop anymore murder attempts on your uncle.”

“No,” Dean hissed at the ghost beside him, “My parents are good people! They don’t kill people and they aren’t villains!”

Dean had tears in his eyes as he threw the badge and turned to the other side, having enough of the ghost and his words. He remembered his grandfather yelling how awful his dad was and telling him all those mean things all summer when he just wanted to have a good relationship with his dad. 

He remembered his grandfather making his dad cry with his cruel words.

He wasn’t going to listen to it from a dead guy, he didn’t care if he did need his help.

Brock could handle anything and never failed to keep them safe, he didn’t need some stupid ghost to tell him anything.


End file.
